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Raphaela du Pleasante chewed a pencil between her mocha colored lips,

staring dully at the clock that ticked ticked ticked on the wall. Tick

tick tick. Detention. She detested it....loathed it....was learning to

count the milliseconds within each second. The pretty 18-year-old high

school senior sighed and lowered her head to the desk. I shouldn't be

here, she thought to herself, her full bottom lip pouting. It wasn't fair

at all. Raphaela went to a very rigid Catholic girls school who's students

hailed from the richest confines of Beverly Hills. And among them all,

Raphaela was a model student...and a model. At only 18, she had been

working fifteen years in the industry, starting with commercials for

pull-up diapers, running her cute naked bottom around studio sets and

smiling pretty for the men who laughed in delight at her free-spirited

antics. She had quickly moved on to cereal commercials, then finally, her

dream - clothing. Runway was Raphaela's forte. No girl could strut her

stuff like Raphaela could. Her mother was a small-time actress turned

snooty socialite, and her father came from old money, had moved here to

California from Texas on the whimsy of his new bride. And Raphaela had

been born here, raised here, spoon-fed on the best that society could offer

her. The best schooling, the best recreational activities, the best

"friends" money could buy. She never took it for granted. Until now.

"Daddy, please?" she had whined this morning while her still-attractive

father had driven her personally to her Saturday morning detention with Mr.

Wilkes. "Love, there is no way I can get you out of this. Truly, I have

tried, my dear. But the school feels this is in your best interests." She

had put on her best pout, and simply stared at her father, her bright blue

eyes wide and as innocent as could be while she leaned close. Raphaela was

becoming a woman. And she knew the power a woman could have over any man,

even her own father. Her mother had taught her well. "Raphaela," her

father had whispered, finally dragging his eyes away from his daughter's

beautiful and perfect face. "I can't help you here, love. I'm sorry." And

she had been dumped on the sidewalk infront of the old stone school on a

Saturday morning with nothing to look forward to but hours upon hours of

catch-up homework, and Mr. Wilkes. Raphaela sighed. The clock ticked and

then made a clicking sound. Ten a.m. She dropped her forehead to the cool

surface of the smooth desk, rolling her head side to side. How had she

gotten here? What had she done wrong? Our Lady of the Valley Catholic

Ladies Finishing School ran very tightly. Because of the many high-class

students that attended, the school wanted for nothing. They had the best

to offer any good pupil, the best teachers, the best computer systems, and

the best extra-curricular activities. And Raphaela had enjoyed them all.

But playing on the volleyball team, running for the track coach, who she

knew only asked her to so he could watch her chest heave....none of it

inspired Raphaela like modeling did. It had been hard, all her life, to

fit her dreams in with her every day necessary routines. But she had done

it, for twelve years, managing school and modeling successfully. Then,

along came Mr. Wilkes, the chemistry professor from HELL! He didn't like

Raphaela leaving classes early, or coming in late. He didn't like making

make-up tests for her like her other teachers did. Mr. Wilkes didn't like

Raphaela du Pleasante, period! She was sure of it! After the first few

months of her senior year in the school had passed normally, Mr. Wilkes

had begun bringing "issues" to the school Recreational Activity Approval

committee. They had never minded that Raphaela's focus was off-campus.

But Mr. Wilkes insisted that the teachers begin to look more closely at

the then 17-year-old's records, her attendance, and what classes she

suffered in. And they did. And Raphaela was found lacking in several

subjects, all that coincided with her modeling shoots and various trips

away from school. Before, Raphaela could have counted her modeling towards

extra credits, as modeling was a common career goal for the girls at

O.L.V.C.L.F.S. But now that Mr. Wilkes was here, and carrying some

Harvard degrees and kudos, everything was changing. Tick tick tick.

Raphaela's eyes stared at the clock, then she looked down at Mr. Wilkes,

sitting behind his desk, scribbling madly on a pad of paper. A solution

had come about to the "du Pleasante" issue when Raphaela had had her 18th

birthday in May. One full day of study, with various make up tests,

papers, and projects. And all of it supported by Mr. Wilkes, who

gallantly offered to supervise Raphaela through out all the day she would

spend alone at the school doing "catch-up". Tick tick tick. She glared at

him from across the short distance, her lips once again mouthing the

slender pencil held by her well-manicured hands. Reflexively, she ran a

hand through her corn-silk hair, pulling it straight as it fell over the

shoulders of her thin sweater. "It's too hot," she said, her voice crisp

as she sat up board-straight in her desk, directly infront of Mr. Wilkes'

own. "May I take off my sweater?"

Mr. Wilkes was not a Chemistry professor by nature. In his 28 years,

he had become quite an athlete. If O.L.V.C.L.F.S. hadn't already had a

full Physical Education staff, that's where he would have ended up. And he

probably never would have crossed paths with little Miss Raphaela du

Pleasante, who had already fulfilled her Phys. Ed requirements for the

term. "It's too hot," came her whiney voice. "May I take off my sweater?"

Wilkes stared at her with his gray eyes, peering at her from behind his

glasses, admiring her, as he couldn't help but do. Her hair, silky and

blonde, flowed over her shoulders today. Not done up in one of those

fancy-schmancy hairdo's she usually used. And it made her look more

enticing than ever. "Um, sure, whatever. Take it off." Take it all off,

he thought to himself, feeling beads of sweat forming on his thin upper

lip. Wilkes leaned back in his chair, letting it dip backwards comfortably.

He was suddenly glad she couldn't see his legs behind the desk. His cock

was creating quite a stir in his navy-blue shorts. He watched her

carefully, studying her as she daintily removed first one arm, then the

other, from the navy blue granny sweater. She instinctively hung the

garment over the back of her desk chair, and turned around to once more

watch the clock. Her blue eyes were the perfect shade, Wilkes thought, his

hand creeping up his bare thigh, ruffling through the blonde leg hair and

landing over his crotch. And her hair. I bet it shines almost like a

mirror in the sun. Wilkes began to lightly rub himself. His cock was too

big, he grinned. Ah, a blessing and a curse. A curse right now, since he

couldn't satisfy his member, not like he wanted to. The bathroom was just

down the hall. He knew he could go in there and get off. But he would

still have to come back here. To see Raphaela. And that would just start

him jumping all over again. As if on cue, Raphaela looked straight into

Wilkes' eyes, and his cock jumped in his palm, beneath the material of the

shorts. This was why he had brought her here, after all, he thought to

himself. So he could stare at her, good and long, before she graduated.

"Why am I here, really?" Wilkes' face flushed of all color. He dropped his

chair down to a straight back position and stared at the girl. "Huh?" "Why

am I here? Why are you doing this to me?" She blinked at him, and he

calmed. She was just being a snot-bag, he realized, thankful he hadn't

been found out. He leaned back again, looking cool and collected. "I'm

sure your parents already discussed this with you." Wilkes put both his

arms behind his head, stretching his chest muscles beneath his white

T-shirt, flexing his biceps, and grinning confidently at the student.

Raphaela frowned openly. "What's the matter, Miss Pleasante? Did you have

other plans today?" he mocked her. "It's du Pleasante, thank you. And

yes. I would rather be doing anything today than this."

Raphaela could feel her brain working overtime. She knew men. And she

knew that look in Mr. Wilkes' gray eyes. Behind his scholarly glasses, he

was up to something. And she was sure it had to do with her. She suddenly

wondered how old Mr. Wilkes was. Maybe 32? 33? He was a teacher, after

all. That made him old in any student's eyes. He sure was strong, and

well built. But blech, he was still a yucky Chemistry teacher. She tapped

her pencil on the top of her desk. He was teasing her, she knew. Raphaela

could read that in his eyes. Was he baiting her for something? She

frowned again, and looked at the clock. 10:15 a.m. Saturday morning. In

school, with a teacher who looked ready to eat her alive. Wait. That was

it, wasn't it! Mr. Wilkes was some sort of pervert! He only wanted her

here to look at her, didn't he!! Startled, Raphaela did her best to keep

her revelation from her face. And her revulsion. She was right, she could

feel it. But how could she use this to her advantage?

Wilkes smiled, and just kept on smiling, moving one hand down to his

hidden crotch again. His cock was getting so hard and big, bulging the

front of his shorts, threatening to pop out. Oh what the hell, he thought,

still grinning at Raphaela. He undid the button hidden by the flap of

material in the front of his shorts, and let his dick slip snake-like from

his underwear. Oh, that felt so much better. Wilkes began to stroke it

with the side of his thumb, studying Raphaela as she studied the clock.

The girl hadn't done a sentence of writing since she had sat down. But

with her head up, it was easier for Wilkes to see her face. And to imagine

what it would be like if her mouth were wrapped around his cock, right now.

He looked down into his lap, at where his member stood at attention. Oh

yeah. That would feel so good, he thought, as he squeezed the head,

forcing a drop of precum to the surface of the small hole. He rubbed the

drop into the tight skin of his cock, and had to forcibly hold back a gasp.

Imagining rubbing that cum on Raphaela's perfect chin, oh yeah...

"I need to go to the lavatory, please," Raphaela said suddenly. She had

an idea. There was no way she was going to stay here and be some pervert's

peepshow. She was going to deal with this just like her mother knew she

could. men were toys, puppets. And she was going to dance Mr. Wilkes on

his strings like he had never been danced before. "Oh yeah, uh, sure, go

ahead. Just come right back here, young lady, when you're done!" He tried

to sound firm, but she knew she had caught him off guard by the way he had

popped his chair back down again, hiding his legs under the desk. He was

probably getting an erection from staring at her. That's fine, Raphaela

thought to herself as she did her best sashay out of the classroom. I'm

going to give him something to stare at, alright. I've got this baby in

the bag.

Whew, Wilkes thought, giving Raphaela permission to go to the bathroom.

He was taking such a risk. And it only made him get harder. He kept his

hands folded on his desk, watching her wiggle out of the classroom,

swinging her little black purse on its long strings. Man, that girl could

walk. She had that strut down to an art! Once she was gone, Wilkes

whistled low and soft, and leaned back, fully and openly stroking his cock.

"Buddy, we have got to get some of that!" Again, he pictured Raphaela's

mouth poised beneath the head of his cock, her lips eager and ready to take

him inside. That would be the best image, right there. "I'm...back?"

Quickly, he rolled his chair back under the desk. But had it been in time?

She must have seen him!

Raphaela tried not to throw up. Oh my god, had she just seen what she

thought she had just seen? Was that...Mr. Wilkes' cock? In his hand??

Had he been masturbating while she was in the bathroom? Oh my god, she

thought, suddenly weak in the knees. Maybe she wasn't doing the right

thing after all. Maybe going to the bathroom and removing her bra and

panties wasn't such a good idea. Maybe... But she looked up at the clock

as she passed it by. 10:30 a.m. She had five long hours to go, if she

didn't follow through on her plans. She could do this. She knew she

could. This would be a cakewalk, if she did it right. Just a little flash

here, a crossing and uncrossing of the legs there, and a sweet request.

And Mr. Wilkes would let her leave so he could take care of himself

properly. Not that he hadn't already started, if she had seen what she

thought she had just seen. Raphaela sat back in her desk, making sure to

round out her bottom as she slid in, the plaid skirt flaring slightly as

she sat down. Was he watching? A quick glance said he could not take his

eyes off of her. Doing her best to look hot and bored, Raphaela drew Mr.

Wilkes' eyes from her uncrossed legs up to her hands, where she coyly

fidgeted with the top bottoms of her blouse before undoing them. Then she

leaned over her desk, picking up her pencil and dabbing the tip on the

paper infront of her. Putting on her best pout, she looked up at Mr.

Wilkes. "I wish I didn't have to be here today. I would do anything to

get out of this. It's so unfair, don't you think, Mr. Wilkes? Isn't

there something you would rather be doing than watching over little old
me?"

Wilkes nearly came right there. He was sure she had seen him touching

himself. That had seemed bad enough. But upon closer examination of

Raphaela, he noticed she had removed the brassiere from beneath her thin

white blouse. And as she sat down, her tiny skirt bunched up. She

uncrossed her legs, and he could swear he saw through the shadows between

her slender thighs. What the hell? What was she trying to do, make him

cum?? Well, Wilkes thought, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Maybe she was

doing just that. As the highschool senior leaned over her desk, top

buttons of her blouse now undone, Wilkes could see a good bit of her round

young cleavage. There was no way that wasn't done intentionally. "I wish

I didn't have to be here today. I would do anything to get out of this.

It's so unfair, don't you think, Mr. Wilkes? Isn't there something you

would rather be doing than watching over little old me?" Wilkes gulped,

stunned. His cock began to throb, aching and jumping out of his shorts.

"Uh huh." He was right! The little vixen was planning on conniving her way

out of her detention with a little flash of titty and pussy. It was all

Wilkes could do not to laugh. Since he had been here this school year,

over 75% of the student body had thrown itself at him. And more than half

the faculty, men included. Some he had obliged, under special situations.

Heck, to get this detention today, he had done some pretty good flashing of

his own. But he wasn't about to have Raphaela ruin it for him now. No

way. He had worked hard to get this day, to plan it so the school would be

empty, and no one would be around. Just him and Raphaela du Pleasante.

She would do anything to get out of this, would she? We'll see about that,

Wilkes thought, leaning back and grinning again.

Raphaela gulped. Mr. Wilkes didn't seem to be taking her bait. No

other teacher had lasted this long before. She had used this ploy a few

times, to get her way. It even worked with Daddy. But that grin on Mr.

Wilkes' face didn't say a thing about giving her her way. She looked at

the clock and thought hard. She really didn't want to be here. She could

be doing so much right now, better things. And Raphaela wondered to

herself, exactly what would she do to get out of this? "Come here for a

moment, Raphaela," Mr. Wilkes said in a silky-smooth voice that had so

many undertones to it, Raphaela couldn't begin to decipher their meanings.

"Come over to my desk a moment."

Here goes, thought Wilkes. This was the part where he found out exactly

how much Raphaela would really do to get out of her detention. Or if he

was about to be slammed with an indecent exposure lawsuit. He turned his

chair on its swivel, as Raphaela stood up and came around one side of his

desk. She now had her back to the classroom door. As she walked around

the desk, he knew she could run, at any time. Wilkes wasn't into rape.

Domination could be fun, especially with a little snot-bag like this one.

But he wasn't about to force anyone to do anything. He liked being wanted,

the idea of being desired. Raphaela slowly walked around the desk until

she faced Wilkes. He looked up at her, trying to feel half as confident as

his grin said he was. He put a hand on his thigh, and as Raphaela's

surprised eyes moved downward from his face, he made his dick jump, on cue.

And he kept on grinning.

She couldn't believe it. There, infront of her, was a real life cock.

She had never seen a real one. Not like this. Sure, she had watched

movies, and giggled over them with her friends after looting her father's

personal stash. She had even seen her father's penis, when she had

stumbled on some of his home movies of himself and her mother. Her father
was a handsome man. But Mr. Wilkes' member was...perfect. And very big.

As her eyes became glued to it, it jumped. And so did she. "Nothing to be

afraid of, Miss du Pleasante," Mr. Wilkes said, as he reached a big hand

down to his big cock, and began to stroke the shaft. Raphaela was

speechless, watching him. "I'm just a man. And you are a very attractive

young lady. And you know it, too, don't you. That's why you took off your

bra and panties, isn't it. You thought that might help you get out of

detention, didn't you." Raphaela nodded, gulping again. Her throat seemed

suddenly dry and tight, and she felt she had lost her voice. "Well, young
lady. I'm sorry. But I'm afraid I can't let you leave detention. The

Recreational Activity Approval committee left me in charge of you today.

And I know I need to do a good job in supervising you." Mr. Wilkes smiled

and Raphaela looked at his smile, then back down to his lap. He was still

stroking himself. His cock was so big and hard. She could see the flesh

bulging in his hand's grip, could see the veins popping along the sides of

the long thick shaft. "I suppose, though, that I may have over-dramatized

your failings in school this year. Do you think you should be here, in

this classroom, with me, all day long...Raphaela?" What could she say to

that?

"No," came the unusually quiet voice of the blonde senior infront of Mr.

Wilkes. Alright, he said to himself, feeling every vein in his shaft throb

as his hand ran over his cock. So far, so good. Now to see if she was

ready to deal. "Well, maybe we can work something out, between the two of

us. I mean, you seem pretty determined to get out of this thing, any way

you can." Wilkes nodded at Raphaela, as if pointing out that her perky

breasts now jutted, with hardened nipples, from her thin white blouse. The

girl nodded in return, her eyes wide as she watched his hand on his cock.

Then he realized something very important and crucial to his little

fantasy. Little Miss du Pleasante had never seen a real life cock before.

Oh, she'd probably been felt up on occasion. Wilkes couldn't doubt that

one second. She had dated most of the football team, but she had never

been with anyone seriously, that he'd heard anyway. She probably prided

herself on her prudish chastity. The very thought of her virgin mouth

wrapped around his cock made a drop of precum splurt out of the hole on the

head of his dick. And he rubbed it around, looking from the swollen helmet

of his cock, up to Raphaela's mouth. Such full lips. So perfectly shaped.

And to think, they had never ever touched another man's cockflesh. "What

can you do for me, that will convince me you should be free to go for the

rest of the day?"

Raphaela couldn't take her eyes from Mr. Wilkes' cock, or how his hand

stroked it so naturally. My god, she thought, gulping as he talked to her.

My god, that's a real cock, and it's hard and it's wet, and I'm looking at

it, and oh my god. When he asked her if she thought she should be in class

today with him, Raphaela could barely speak and only managed to squeak out

a soft weak-sounding "no". Mr. Wilkes kept talking, but he also kept

touching himself. And Raphaela couldn't look away. Cocks were so big!

They were huge! How did the women in the movies manage to do all those

nasty things with them? How did her mother - ? "What can you do for me,

that will convince me you should be free to go for the rest of the day?"

Here it was, his trump card. He wanted something from her. If it was her

virginity, he wouldn't get it. No one would get that, she had promised

herself that years ago and had held true to it no matter what. But what

else did she have to offer? Now it was her turn to speak, it was

Raphaela's turn to play her hand. "What - what can I do for you?" And the

smile that lit Mr. Wilkes' face made Raphaela's stomach tighten and

clench.

He had her, he knew it. And he loved it. "Oh, Raphaela, there are so

many things. Of course, I could get anything from anyone in this school,

really. Do you know how often your friend Rebecca throws herself at me?

She always begs me to let her suck my cock. Did you know that, Raphaela? I

bet you didn't, did you." Wilkes slowly took his hand away from his crotch,

leaving his member exposed and hungry, wiping his hand on his shorts and

putting both hands behind his head. He was flexing again, enjoying his

newfound position of power. Damn, even just toying with this girl felt

good. She was so snotty, but where was all her snobbery now? He had her

right where he wanted her, or almost did. "I didn't let her, though. No.

I've been waiting, all year, Raphaela. I've been thinking and wondering

about having you do that. "What do you think, Miss Pleasante?"

Raphaela could just see that slut Rebecca, trailing like a puppy after

Mr. Wilkes. It was just her style. She'd known Rebecca all her life, and

had been watching her friend as she got rounder, and plumper. Not really

fat, mind you. But Rebecca Caucas was all tits and ass. Raphaela's mother
had often commented to her daughter about how Rebecca should be in

pornographic movies, with the way she blatantly flashed her body whenever

she got the chance, at any man that walked by. Wait, what had Mr. Wilkes

just said? "I didn't let her, though. No. I've been waiting, all year,

Raphaela. I've been thinking and wondering about having you do that."

Having her do what, again? She gulped, as Mr. Wilkes took his hand from

his jumping, bouncing cock, and wiped it off on his navy-blue shorts.

"What do you think, Miss Pleasante?" Raphaela snarled. "It's du

Pleasante." And Mr. Wilkes laughed. "See? It's that snobbish

holier-than-thou attitude, right there, that got you here today! Just keep

on smiling, little girl. I've got all day!" And Mr. Wilkes made to turn

his chair back around to his desk, grinning and not looking at her. "No!

Wait! I mean..." What did she mean?

Wilkes had barely turned his chair away from the tall girl, but he

slowly turned it back, looking up at her with a false blank stare. "Yes?"

"Well," she said, and he shivered as she bit indecisively at her lip.

"Listen, Raphaela, we don't have all day. We're supposed to have work to

do, here. If you'd like to make a deal, now is the time to let me know."

God, he was acting like such an ass! And it felt so great! The girl was

trembling, shaking. And he loved how she couldn't say it, couldn't say yes

to what he had just suggested. Then he'd have to do it for her, he said to

himself. Because god, he had to have that mouth on his cock soon, or he'd

just about burst! Wilkes put out his hands, palms up. And when Raphaela

put her hands into his, he pulled her down, slowly, until she was crouched

between his knees. He put a hand on each of her shoulders, pushing her

until she was on her knees infront of him. "There is an easy way to get

out of all of this," he said quietly. "It won't take long. And if you

don't know how to do it, that's okay." Wilkes brushed a hand against the

cool skin of the girl's cheek. "I can show you exactly how it's done."

She couldn't believe it. She was like putty in this guy's hands.

Raphaela suddenly found herself on her knees in between Mr. Wilkes'

thighs. Her chemistry professor was going to show her how to suck cock. Oh

my god, she thought. What have I gotten myself into? What do I do now?

"I can show you exactly how it's done." Raphaela looked up into Mr.

Wilkes' gray eyes, hating him, fearing him, but left only in a position

where she had to trust him. "If it gets messy, I can help you clean up. I

promise not to make a mess in your hair." Mess? What did he mean? What

did that mean?? Raphaela gulped, and looked at the cock, which was now

mere inches infront of her face. It was dark colored, as if tanned, but it

had a reddish tint to it. The head was swollen and purple, and the skin

was so tight, it shone. Her mouth got dry, suddenly, and she licked her

lips, surprised as the cock bounced. She looked up at her teacher. He was

watching her mouth, and when she had licked her lips, he had liked it. If

he was that easy to excite, she told herself, I can do this fast, and get

out of here. "Now, carefully...kiss it." And Raphaela did.

Wilkes groaned, loudly, not holding back, as Raphaela's mouth lowered to

his tight cockflesh, and she gave him a soft kiss. Fuck, her lips were so

soft. "Again," he moaned, eyes closed. He reached up her neck, and curled

his fingers in her hair. "Open your lips this time, put your tongue on

me." The girl obeyed, and Wilkes felt another splurt of precum. Raphaela

jumped and made to move away, but he tightened his fingers in her hair.

"That's normal. That just means I like what you're doing. Don't stop.

Kiss me where the cum is, Raphaela." He opened his eyes, watching as the

girl, trembling, put her lips against the drop of precum. Her tongue

reached out, and he snickered as she tasted the creamy drop of ooze. "You

like it, don't you. I knew you would. You'll get used to it, easily. Now

put the head of it into your mouth, for me." Raphaela shook her head.

"No," she said softly, her blue eyes glaring up at Wilkes defiantly. "I

said, put the head into your mouth!"

Raphaela shook her head again. The taste of the salty precum was still

on her tongue. She'd never tasted anything like that before. It was as if

the taste was secondary to the feel of it. It was thick, heavy. Mr.

Wilkes' fingers curled tightly in her hair, and she looked up at him again

as he began to lower her head to his cock. "Open your mouth, little girl,

and put my cock inside. Or I'll do it for you, and you won't like that at

all - trust me." But still, Raphaela objected, glaring and pursing her lips

tightly closed. Mr. Wilkes took his cock in one hand, stroking himself.

Raphaela watched as his fingers tightened at the base and squeezed up as

they moved toward the head. His hand was tight in her hair, getting

tighter. "Ow!" she finally squealed, pinching her eyes shut. And as soon

as her mouth opened, Mr. Wilkes shoved her head down and his cock up. And

suddenly, her mouth was filled with him. She gagged and tried to push

away. But when she opened her eyes, Mr. Wilkes was grinning. His hand was

tight in her hair, forcing her head and face all the way into his groin.

"If you bite me, I'll hit you. You never bite a man down there, got that,

little girl? Raphaela struggled, but without using her teeth, there was no

way to get out of this.

Wilkes hated having to do that. He didn't like to force anyone to do

anything sexual, not even this snotty little rich bitch, who deserved it

for not listening. "Are you going to do what I say?" She nodded and he

relaxed his grip on her hair, still not letting go. "Now, I want you to

move your tongue around it. Just nicely. Lick me. Yeah, like that." And

he sighed as she moved her tongue inside her mouth, over his shaft. "That

feels so good. Keep doing that, and you'll be out of here in no time." He

could feel his cum, building and boiling in his balls. Mmm, his balls.

May as well go for the gusto. "If you just relax, you can enjoy this.

I'll show you how. Just imagine that this is your chance to explore

things, safely. With someone who won't hurt you. I don't want to hurt
you, Raphaela. I just want to love your mouth."

He said it so smoothly, so calmly, Raphaela could almost believe him.

His fingers had released on her hair, and he was petting her now.

Inwardly, she sighed, as her mouth got used to being crammed full of cock.

She moved her tongue around like he suggested, and looked up to see Mr.

Wilkes moaning and letting his head drop back. He was really liking this.

She knew her mother probably did this with men. She could bet her father
enjoyed it, as well. It may be something she would actually have to learn

to do. Mr. Wilkes was right. He hadn't really hurt her, and she had kind

of asked for it, getting him excited by agreeing to his proposition, then

refusing to do what he asked. Maybe she should see this as a chance to

practice? Or something. I mean, kissing pillows only gets you so far, she

told herself. Raphaela knew she was just trying to justify being between

her chemistry teacher's thighs, with his cock in her mouth. She could have

said no, she could have suffered through the detention. But her attitude

wouldn't let her. She had to get her way. And obviously, this was one way

of doing that. Carefully, she moved her tongue up and down the hard shaft,

letting it run over the throbbing, bulging veins. She withdrew, slowly,

letting the cock come out. But before Mr. Wilkes could grip her hair, she

put both her hands around the base of his cock, squeezing it like she had

seen him do. She squeezed it, upwards, into her mouth, and suckled the

helmet. Except for his size, this really wasn't so bad.

Damn, thought Wilkes. What was that little vixen doing now? He had

thought she meant to back off now, the way she had been pulling back. And

there was no way in hell he was going to let her. He was so close to

cumming, already, that he would have just grabbed her hair, forced her

mouth over him, and let himself get off right in her squealing throat,

before he let her just leave him all hard and unsatisfied. But that wasn't

what she was doing, at all. He groaned, and shuddered, as Raphaela's long

fingers clenched around the base of his thick cock, and began stroking him.

"God, girl, yes. Fuck, that feels so good." Her mouth was so tight around

the head of him. He could feel her tongue, swirling. She was moving it so

fast. "Here," Wilkes said, taking one of her hands. "Touch my balls.

They are so heavy, so heavy with cum for you. "Raphaela," Wilkes moaned.

Saying her name, with her right there, with his cock in her mouth, was

fulfilling yet another of his fantasies. Only one more left.

She let her teacher move her hand to his sack. It was soft to the

touch, wrinkly. But inside she could feel two huge slippery balls that

slid around as she gripped at them. "Not too tight. Just careful, now."

So, this was what it was like to have someone by the balls, was it? Her

mother said that often, about her father. And now Raphaela knew what she

meant. When you had a man in this position, so full of desire and

pleasure, their eyes rolling back in their heads, their hands trembling as

they touched you, you could probably get anything you wanted from them.

Carefully, still stroking the cock, Raphaela let it slip from her lips.

"Mr. Wilkes," she whispered. "Yeah?" he moaned back, not even openly his

eyes as her hand cupped and squeezed his balls just right. "May I be

excused from detention?" "Oh hell yeah," he groaned, looking at her with

glazed over eyes. "Just suck me off, and you can go." His hand was against

her cheek, and it was almost a tender caress. "Finish me off, Raphaela,

and I'll let you call someone to come and get you." She nodded and opened

her mouth, her eyes locked on his while he shifted his hips, pushing up so

his cock touched her lips. And she waited until his hand was in her hair,

encouraging her to move over his groin. "Finish me."

Slowly, the girl put her mouth over his cock again. He wasn't sure if

she knew what to do to finish him. But, this is where he got to show her.

And got to live out the last bit of his fantasies. Wilkes tightened his

hand in Raphaela's hair again, chewing his bottom lip with a bit of worry.

He'd been having his cock sucked by girls since he was 12, and he knew what

he liked. He loved the feel of Raphaela's small virgin mouth all hot and

tight around him, and he loved feeling her hand squeezing his testes. But

what he really needed was to feel the head of his cock butting against the

back of her throat. She might object to that, might not be ready. But

Wilkes could feel his cum building up. It was time, he knew. He gripped

her hair, and moved her hands to his thighs, as if to get her ready to have

something to hold onto. Then, he began to move. Surprisingly, she began

to match his movements. Wilkes didn't doubt that she just wanted to do

whatever he said, in order to get out of her as quick as possible. But her

liking it wasn't a part of his fantasy, really. He only ever dreamed of

fucking her mouth, just like this. He bucked harder, pushing his cock past

her tongue, past her mouth. Ah fuck yeah, he thought to himself, holding

back his moans. God, that's the back of her throat, right there. And

she's not even objecting. Damn, he said, as he felt his cum rising. She's

a god damned natural deep throater!

Raphaela could feel Mr. Wilkes' cock bouncing and butting against the

back of her throat, could feel the spongy head of him ramming back into

her. His hips raised up, and he pushed her head carefully down onto him.

She gripped his thighs, her nails digging in. And he liked it, and

grimaced in pleasure. "Fuck yeah, keep going. That's good. Oh god, I'm

going to cum. I'm going to cum in your mouth!" He was going to cum in her

mouth? Raphaela hoped that would be the end of it. Then, his cock

shuddered and jumped hard in her mouth. And hot liquid splashed against

the back of her throat, burning as it went down. She tried to pull away.

"No! No, just swallow it. That's right. Just swallow it. It won't make

you sick. And fuck, it feels so good if you swallow." So, Raphaela calmed

herself, and swallowed, barely tasting the hot cum as Mr. Wilkes thrust a

few times more and poured into her.

This was it, he thought to himself as he poured his cum into the back of

her throat. With his fingers in her hair, he twisted his cock, and pulled

her face off of him. His left hand was in her hair now, and his right was

fiddling with his desk. Wilkes watched as his cock burst free of

Raphaela's tight lips, her eyes wide in surprise. And he laughed as the

last of his cum poured over her face, running down her chin and cheeks.

"God! Ah! Fuck yeah!" Then, he hit the button on the camera, and the

flash went off. And his fantasy was fulfilled.

"What the hell?!?!" Raphaela jumped away from Mr. Wilkes, wiping madly

at her cum-covered face, blinking from the pop of the flash in her eyes.

"What the FUCK did you just do? Did you just take my picture? Did you?"

She was yelling at him now. That bastard! He really had all this planned!

Raphaela could see her modeling career going down the drain, see it passing

before her eyes. Fifteen years of work, blown away, because some guy had a

picture of her sucking his cock - no, worse! He had a picture of her with

his cum all over her face! "You bastard!" She dove at him, trying for the

camera. And Mr. Wilkes let her have it, waving as he jumped away from

her. In his hand, he held a Polaroid. "Give that to me!" "No way! Now

I've got you!" And they began a mad chase around the classroom, Mr. Wilkes

laughing and cackling, and Raphaela going from crying to pleading to

screaming in fury. "Give it to me!"

At last, Wilkes just put his hand on Raphaela's shoulder and pushed her.

The girl landed hard on her bottom on the classroom floor. And for a

moment, he considered just having her. Her plaid skirt was hiked up around

her hips, and he could see her virgin bush. Her full chest was heaving.

And he could feel his still-exposed dick getting hard. But no, he reminded

himself. There was no way he was going to rape someone. "Alright, this is

the deal," he said, holding the picture aloft. "Since this is a Polaroid,

and the only one of it's kind, I'll let you have it - after graduation."

The girl glared at him, getting to her feet and walking to her desk. She

pulled open her purse and used a silk handkerchief inside to wipe off her

face. She was deep red with humiliation. Wilkes laughed quietly.

"Honestly, Raphaela. I have no intention of using this against you. I

just want to keep it for a while. A memento - unless you want to come suck

me off a few times more? Hmmm? Didn't think so. So just let me keep this

until you graduate. Then, I'll give it back to you." The girl was trying

to regain some composure. He watched as she brushed her hair viciously,

first one side, then the other. Then, finally, she spoke. "I have a very

powerful and very influential family. If you use that picture against me,

I will tell them you lured me here to rape me, then tell them you said I

had to suck your cock to leave, or you would kill me. Then we will sue

you, and I will still be the innocent victim. And you'll go to jail."

Wilkes knew full well she could do that to him, right now. But she was

agreeing to his suggestion. She was trusting him. "Not a problem. Just

let me have this photo for a few weeks. I've dreamed of your mouth on my

cock for so long, Raphaela. All I want is a bit of time with this photo,

and then I'll give it to you." Really give it to you, he said to himself,

watching as the girl put her nose up in the air, and left the room, books

and purse in hand. As if nothing had happened, he laughed, sitting back in

his chair and looking at the picture. As if I didn't just cum all over her

perfect face.

Raphaela called her father at work. He was surprised that she was out

of detention already, but more than happy to come get her. "We'll spend

the day together, in the city maybe," he said to her on his cell phone. It

didn't take him very long to show up in his car, whipping around the quiet

suburb that the school was located in. He jumped out of his side of the

car, and opened the passenger door for his daughter, his hand on the small

of her back. "Everything okay, sweetie?" "Sure, Daddy." Raphaela climbed

into the car, letting her father put her books into the back for her. She

was thinking, thinking very hard about everything that had happened. She

was trying to make it "right" in her head. She'd have to deal with this

for the rest of her life, the fact that her chemistry teacher had so toyed

with her and used her. "So," Raphaela's father said as they began to drive

downtown. "What did you learn in school today?" As he placed his hand on

her thigh, patting her bare skin, Raphaela watched him. She watched his

hand, and she watched his face. "Maybe I'll show you, some time." She knew

her father had no clue what she was talking about. But to her, the joke

was so funny. And also, very possible. To have a man by the balls, all a

woman had to do was...